Personal Logs
by Eetic
Summary: Captain Picard is having a hard time dealing with the impending departure of his CMO after 'Nemesis'. His new counsellor is wondering why, and asks Crusher to shed some light. Harkens back to "Chain of Command." Just a short, one-off segment of a story that may or may not be completed, depending on reaction. Please R R with constructive criticism!


A/N: This is set after _Nemesis_, but before any of the subsequent books. Riker and Troi have transferred to the _Titan_, but Beverly has yet to leave the _Enterprise_. Please R+R

Paramount is just that. I use thier characters, that is all.

"Captain on the bridge," Data said.

The bridge crew turned and faced Captain Picard, and they all smiled. Not one of them didn't think of the Captain as a father figure in their lives. They loved him, and it hurt them to see him like this. Dr. Hansen, however, didn't know what to do for the man. And he didn't know what to do for his irascible Captain, who seemed to go through violent mood swings. Giles Hansen was an experienced psychiatrist, and one who had helped hundreds of people get through misfortune and sorrow. The Captain, however, seemed to be beyond his help. He decided to have a chat with his soon to leave CMO about it after his bridge shift had completed.

"Dr. Crusher? Do you have a moment?" Hansen asked.

"Of course, Dr. Hansen. What can I do for you?" Crusher turned in her office chair, placing the PADD she was working with on a stack of others and forcing a smile on her face.

Dr. Hansen looked extremely uncomfortable. "It is about...Captain Picard. I have been having a hard time getting to him. He seems to have, I don't know, put up a wall, or something. I can't seem to break it down. Counsellor Troi said that you were, perhaps, the only person in Starfleet who knows the man. Throw me a bone, here?"

Crusher snorted. _Know the man? No. I don't think anyone truly knows him. But I do love him. Maybe that is enough. _"Well, I guess I'm at least the closest there is. What is the question?"

"What happened to him? I mean, I've read the reports on the Borg, and his term of imprisonment by the Cardas...torture. He was tortured, wasn't he?" Hansen looked away.

Beverly paused. She remembered the minutes, hours, of when Jean-Luc had been in captivity. She had felt her poor heart breaking. _I left him. I ordered Worf to leave, and then I left him._ Jean-Luc had been fighting for his life on Celtris III when Worf had held the door open. She saw an escape, and took it. Without even thinking of Jean-Luc. Her guilt over the episode had nearly drowned her. _If he had died...no. I won't think like that. He didn't, and I did what was expected of me as a Starfleet Officer._ But that hadn't eased the pain that she felt. The nights, in her room, after she had overridden the door to the Captain's Quarters, and taken a shirt of his. She had held it to her face, and the scent of him had lingered, and it only made her miss him more. _My God, how childish. Smelling his shirts, and weeping? It's like a bad romance novel._ And that novel had continued after he had returned from the Cardassians. How straight his back was when walking from the transporter room. Tears stung her eyes when she remembered his pride, even through all his pain. _How I loved him. Still love him_ she thought. _I would have traded places with him. Instantly. Without hesitation. As he did for me._

_"_It had been Gul Madred who lead the interrogations, correct?"

"For three weeks, yes." She shuddered at her own mention of the name. _My Hippocratic Oath would not stop me from killing that man. Slowly. Delicately. Painfully. Madred is a dilettante compared to what I could do to him._

"And after he returned? Had he changed much?"

"Of course he did," she spat, surprising herself with her vehemence, "anyone would have."

"Was anyone there to help him through it?"

Her eyes flashed with anger. _Just what does he mean by that? _"He had his friends, his colleagues, Counsellor Troi. Everyone."

"Are there any reports from those sessions?"

_Yes. _"No."

"May I see your official medical log from the treatment of Captain Picard after his return? Perhaps they might shed some light on what he's been acting so strange."

"Yes."

"Well, thanks." Hansen noted that she seemed somewhat abrupt in her dealings with him. Maybe he had annoyed her in some way?

_Chief Medical Officers Log, Stardate 46361.4_

_Captain Picard has returned to the Enterprise, and has taken command once more. He was taken to the Sickbay, and assessed for damage. After the initial scans had been completed, I determined that the injuries that he had sustained had been incurred during his three week incarceration, and that the injuries were consistent with the methods of torture used by the Cardassian military in the past. The injuries, so far as I have been able, have been healed. In total, 38 separate bones had been broken. However, the scans show that a total of 143 fractures occurred between the date of his last medical exam (Stardate 45589.3) and now. As Captain Picard had never complained of an injury that could have fractured any bone in his body as severely as was show in the medical scans between that date and today, I must conclude that all of the fractures suffered by the Captain were at the hands of his captors._

_Additionally, I was able to repair the severe damage to Captain Picard's nervous system, which had been, partially, as a result of a device implanted that connected to the pain receptors of his brain. During my investigations of this device, I concluded that it could be use to stimulate pain in the targets body, ranging from extreme discomfort to being able to render the target unconscious. According to the scans of the Captain's nervous system, I must conclude that the device had been in use for most, if not all, of the Captain's incarceration._

_It is, therefore, the opinion of the Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise that Captain Picard was repeatedly and extensively tortured beyond what could be considered useful for interrogation._

Hansen sat back in his chair, and lets out a long slow breath. He, himself, had had his fair share of broken bones as a child. Most of them hurt like hell, and he still shuddered when he thought about the pain. _143_, he thought, _143? He...I don't know, took it in stride?_ It was too easy to believe that the famous Jean-Luc Picard of the _Enterprise_ wasn't entirely human. Vulcan control ran through his blood, most thought. _But 143 broken bones, and he still came back, and sane as ever according to the official reports. _Hansen did some more searching. By all accounts, Jean-Luc Picard of the _Enterprise_ was, apart from being the most famous captain in Starfleet, an accomplished diplomat, tactician, leader, and administrator. He had the enduring loyalty of everyone who had ever met him. He was worshipped by those who served under him, and was respected and trusted by his superiors and peers. He was, in short, a model Starfleet officer. So what in the hell was wrong with him? And why was Dr. Crusher so secretive about it?

"Computer, access Crusher personal logs pertaining to 'Madred', 'Celtris III', or 'torture' on or around Stardate 46361."

"Those logs are secured files. Please state authorization."

"Ships Counsellor, authorization Hansen-theta-theta-seven."

"Working."

_Chief Medical Officers Personal Log, Stardate 46361.6_

_I wasn't sure if I'd make it through the exam without brealomg down. This man, who was my rock, the centre of a wild storm, looked so...vulnerable. When we had gotten to the sickbay, and was taken into the Captain's private ward, he asked ME if I was alright. "Did they hurt you, Beverly?" "Did you and Worf make it back to the ship ok? He was shot by a phaser before leaving, was he alright?" It was all I could do to not turn to him, slap him on the cheek for being unconcerned for his own life, and kiss him on the other for being so concerned for everyone else. _

_I did the scans, and my heart broke. 143 times, it broke, and then it broke again when I scanned the device implanted into his nervous system. A tear rolled down his cheek, which I do not think he noticed, his eyes were closed, and he was likely in either too much pain, or beginning to feel the numbing effects of the analgesic. After all of the pain, and the torment, and the uncertainty, a single tear was the only price those experiences could exact on him. He was being strong for me, I know that. He was being strong for all those under his command, who expected him to be the stoic man, the immovable object in the face of overwhelming force, and he was. I pleaded silently with him to let go, that he could be safe in my confidence, but all I managed to ask was "can I do anything else for you?" I will always remember the look of love he had in his eyes when he politely declined, and said "I am quite well now, thank you, doctor." I remember him telling me a while ago that a captain's life is not his own. He lives at and for the pleasure of his crew, his ship, and his duty. That a captain could not be seen to be indecisive, or weak, or cowardly, even if he was all of those things in private._

_That man. When will I ever see him in private? I await that day, hoping it will come. He can be indecisive, weak, and cowardly with me. As long as it is with me._

"Oh." Hansen sat at his desk for a long while. "Oh, man."


End file.
